


Molly in the Middle

by Emcee



Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, F/M, Handcuffs, Het, Oral Sex, Paddling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sherlock, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Two Sherlocks, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emcee/pseuds/Emcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case brings Molly and Sherlock to New York. After the case is closed, they enjoy their time with the very interesting detective they've met. One with whom Sherlock shares many commonalities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molly in the Middle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nocturnias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnias/gifts).



> Thanks to Petra Todd and Sempaiko for betaing and handholding through this very complicated smut.

There were a few things about the case that were peculiar. Firstly, Sherlock Holmes rarely had any interests in cases that took him to the United States. He had told Molly on the plane that usually the tedium of the travel outweighed the interest of the case. The fact that Molly was there at all was an oddity. John had flatly refused to leave his bride a scant two days after the wedding in order to traipse after Sherlock to the States. Sherlock had agreed, declared that Molly was "New John" and dragged her along with him. He'd later commented that the trip was far more pleasant with her than with his blogger, as he'd taken much enjoyment out of taking her roughly inside of the tiny airplane bathroom.

The most peculiar thing was man they'd ended up working with: Sherlock Holmes.

Perhaps there was a distant relation between the two Holmeses. It was shocking how much they had in common. While they didn't resemble each other physically, the commonality in their personalities was stunning. Both even had their loyal companions named Watson. Although, Sherlock had to admit _Joan_ Watson was a much more pleasurable countenance to glimpse upon than his own associate.

Both men were endlessly interested in criminal activity, possessed keen intellects, former drug habits... 

...Right down to their interest in bondage and domination.

They diverged upon that kinky road, with Sherlock preferring domination while his New York counterpart took the submissive role. Neither had to tell the other. It was clear just through a quick scan. How handy their shared skills were.

Oh, he would not touch the man. Despite a great deal of speculation to the contrary, Sherlock had no interest in his own gender. Even if he did, the similarities between the Sherlocks made the idea somewhere between incestuous and narcissistic.

That didn't mean there wasn't any fun to be had.

The case left the trio keyed up at the local Sherlock's brownstone. Joan had abandoned them to have dinner with the sister of her former boyfriend, Mary. It seemed the Watsons had just as much in common as both Sherlocks. 

Befitting their kinship and shared abilities for deduction, few words had to be exchanged between the two men.

"Shall we?"

"Yes. Let's."

Molly frowned slight at the exchange, looking between the two men who shared the same name. "Let's what?"

With a playful ruffle of his curls, Sherlock pulled his lover into his lap. "Oh, my Pet... You haven't figured it out yet?" 

"Figured what out?" Molly asked, trembling slightly as Sherlock used the name he only used for play in front of the other Sherlock.

"You said you were curious about trying out domination for yourself." He stroked a hand from the nape of her neck, down her spine to her bottom. "I have no interest in prostrating myself to you. However, I believe I have found a more than adequate substitute."

Molly let out a small squeak, wriggling in Sherlock's lap. "Oh... But..."

Her movements and the flush on her pale skin made it clear how she felt about it, even as she made feeble protests to maintain some sense of decorum.

"It has been clear to me over the course of this case that you find my expatriated counterpart attractive." Sherlock pressed hot kisses to her neck and ear, rasping at the lobe with his teeth. "How could you not? He is but a more hirsute version of myself. I assure you the attraction is mutual."

The second Sherlock made a smooth movement from his chair, kneeling on the floor in front of Molly. "He is quite correct. I have a weakness for pathologists with a kinky side... Which is not an entirely easy combination to find." 

A dark chuckle erupted from Sherlock's throat. "He also has weaknesses for handcuffs and crops...." He paused for a moment, looking over the other man. "No, actually you prefer the whip. I do favour the crop myself, but then... I won't be the one wielding it, will I?" He smoothed his hands over Molly's thighs. "Perhaps you'll develop a fondness for handling a whip, my Pet."

Molly turned her head, looking at him, her eyes wide. "But... We haven't... I mean, we've never..."

Of course. Sherlock knew what was giving her pause. They had never brought another to their bed. At any other time, Sherlock wouldn't have considered it. Molly was his.

But this wasn't any other time. This was a very unique situation.

"Do you not want to?" Sherlock asked softly, brushing a lock of hair out of Molly's face. "It's all right if you don't."

"No! It's not that!" Molly blurted out. She slapped her hands over her mouth, obviously embarrassed by how eager she was to contradict Sherlock. "It's just... Well... Will you be all right with it?"

"I'll be right here," Sherlock assured her with a purr. He slipped a hand down to give her arse a squeeze. "You'll dominate Sherlock. But only because I'm allowing you."

* * *

Sherlock quickly disappeared, replaced by her Master. His cool blue eyes seemed to grow colder and greyer. He released the hold he had on Molly's arse, pushing her forward a bit.

"Give Sherlock a kiss, Pet. You need to get to know each other."

Molly did as her Sherlock commanded. She had guiltily wondered what it would be like. Kissing this man who was so much like her lover, yet distinctly different.

His stubble rasped her tender skin. He wasn't anywhere as demanding as her Master. He wasn't demanding at _all_ , yielding to her. She nipped and sucked at his lips until the parted, allowing her to slip her tongue into his mouth. Only then did his come into play, sliding against hers in a wet caress. 

When they parted, Molly ran her tongue over her saliva-slicked lips. She tried to shove her nerves down.

Molly looked at Holmes. She couldn't think of him as Sherlock. It was too confusing to her. He looked up at her with a soft, submissive glance. This must have been the expression she had given to Sherlock so many times. The absolute _need_ to have someone dictating your pleasure. 

She would have never guessed it of him. Maybe it was because of how dominating Sherlock was and how similar they were.

But maybe this Sherlock Holmes didn't want control all the time as her own did. Maybe he needed an escape, if only for a fleeting moment.

Getting together with Sherlock, Molly never thought she would be with another man. She thought he was it, the pinnacle.

Now her knickers were near soaking at the thought of fucking this man. The fact that Sherlock was there, encouraging her, gaining pleasure from the sight, only aroused her further.

Molly gripped Holmes' t-shirt, tugging it over his head. He obligingly raised his arms to her. When his chest was reveal, Molly took her time learning the topography of his body. While he was not beefy, he was distinctly more brawny than Sherlock. Sherlock was refined even when stripped of his tailored suits, with a lean swimmer's build and sparse, gingery chest hair. Holmes was rougher, with thick, dark chest hair and tattoos littering his arms and torso.  There was something altogether alluring and dangerous about being with a man like that.

Pressing her bottom back into Sherlock's lap, Molly could feel the evidence of Sherlock's enjoyment of his voyeurism. Yet he did not grind into her arse. Instead, he gripped her hips and lifted her off him. "Not me. Him."

Molly allowed Sherlock to push her out of his lap and onto Holmes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking his mouth once again. She teethed his lower lip before plunging her tongue into his mouth. Her fingers slid up to his hair-- short where Sherlock's was long and curly. She still managed to find purchase in it, giving teasing tugs to the locks. This earned a muffled groan from Holmes' mouth and a buck of his hips against her. She dimly wondered how Holmes would compare with Sherlock in _other_ areas. It was a silly thing to consider, really. But she couldn't help it.

She squeaked against Holmes' mouth as Sherlock's hand connected with her arse, giving her a light smack. It was barely enough to make the blood flow, but the surprise of it jolted her.

Molly pulled away and looked back at Sherlock. "I thought you wanted to watch."

"Considering what you were thinking, you needed a bit of punishment, Pet," Sherlock purred.

Holmes nodded. "That type of thinking is rather indecorous."

Molly huffed in irritation. "Oh, two of you is going to be intolerable, isn't it?"

She stood and gave Holmes' hair and extra tug, tipping his head back. He groaned and bent to her wishes. "And _you_ are speaking out of turn."

Holmes' eyes closed and he took a trembling breath. Molly felt a zing low in her belly. Was this how Sherlock felt when he stood over her and commanded her?

The endorphin high of subspace was something she would never tire of. She would always need to have Sherlock dom her. But this... This was an intriguing change.

She glanced back over her shoulder at Sherlock. A small, cool smile was on his face and he stroked his long fingers casually over his thigh. "I think it's time you strip him and get him onto his bed."

Molly gave Holmes' hair another tug and he rose to his feet. Molly reached down, palming him through his trousers. He hissed and his hips bucked.

"You're eager," Molly said with a small giggle in her voice.

"Yes, Doctor," Holmes replied breathlessly.

Doctor... Oh, she _liked_ that.

She made quick work of Holmes' zip, letting his trousers fall. His pants quickly followed and he stepped out of both. Molly glanced down, biting her lower lip as she eyed his thickened prick.

"Like what you see, Pet?" Sherlock purred.

Molly nodded. "Very much."

"It's going to be inside of you later." He chuckled. "I know your cunt is just dripping in anticipation."

With another giggle, Molly guided Holmes to his bed. She took her time, arranging him just the way she wanted him, at least to start with. He was on his hands and knees, his arse up in the air. Molly ran her fingers over his cheeks, relishing in the feel of his smooth skin. She took her time, acquainting herself with form. She giggled once again.

"I've never had a domme giggle so much," Holmes commented.

Molly rasped her teeth over his backside and he groaned in pleasure. "Problem?"

"Absolutely not," Sherlock purred. "It's a lovely personal touch. Isn't that right?"

Holmes nodded in silent agreement.

With Holmes now in position, Molly began to rub her hands over his backside briskly, bringing the blood to the surface, warming his skin. "I've never done this before," she warned. "I mean... I've practiced with Sherlock's things... On one of his pillows, but..." 

"It will be fine," Holmes assured her.

"Safeword Molly," Sherlock reminded her. "Safeword."

"I was getting to that!" Molly said, her cheeks growing hot. Domming was she herself was being dominated was going to be an interesting experience. And by interesting, she was sure she meant 'stupidly complicated'.

"We're fine with just red, yellow and green," Holmes said. "No need to complicate things."

"Molly knows how to respect safewords," Sherlock said firmly. "She learned from me. And I will halt her if she goes too far." He growled softly. "You seem very enamoured of Sherlock's backside, Molly. Is there anything you'd like to do with it?"

"I think I'd like to smack it," Molly said quietly.

Sherlock laughed softly and Molly chastised herself for her hesitance. She was supposed to be the dominant right now. Yet she felt so overwhelmed by this new role. It was exciting, but also scary.

"If you go into the box under the bed, you will see he is just as eager as you are to have his arse reddened," Sherlock said softly, almost soothingly. He knew how nervous she was and wanted to reassure her.

Molly pulled the box out from under the bed. Her eyes widened at the sight of all of the implements. It was even more extensive than Sherlock's! She took out the whip and stared at it.

"I think it's best if we leave that for another time," Sherlock teased. "Don't you agree, Pet?"

Molly put the whip down quickly. She hadn't planned on using it. She was terrified by the thing. She had no delusions of being Indiana Jones or Catwoman. 

In the end, she picked a lovely looking leather-padded paddle. It looked like an oversized ping-pong paddle. Nothing too scary about it.

"Good girl," Sherlock purred.

While in the box, she also took a pair of handcuffs and the matching keys. Based on their weight, she guessed Holmes shared Sherlock's penchant for liberating handcuffs from the police officers he knew.

She snapped the cuffs onto Holmes' wrists. She didn't lash him to anything. It was symbolic. He would have nearly full movement if he chose.

But their presence was a reminder that she didn't want him to move.

She repositioned them so Holmes was spread out over her lap. She could feel his cock pressing against her. She bit her lip, willing herself to concentrate not on his thick length against her, but his bare bottom turned up towards her.

Molly rubbed her hands over it, warming the skin. Her toes curled as she played with him. He grunted softly, pressing back against her hands, silently asking for more.

Molly's tongue darted out, wetting her lips. She was trying to brace herself. She gripped the paddle in her hand. She pulled it back and brought it down on his arse.

She knew as soon as she made contact it was too light, too weak. Molly crinkled her nose in disappointment. Going slowly was all well and good, but her attempt had been pathetic.

"Try again," Sherlock murmured. His long fingers were trailing over his thigh, his eyes burning with lust as he watched her.

Molly took a breath and nodded. She brought her hand back and brought the paddle down faster, harder. There was a satisfying smack as the paddle made contact.

This got a reaction from Holmes. He groaned and arched, his fingers digging into his bed.

Sherlock was just as pleased with the performance, groaning in concert with the other man. "Good girl, Pet."

Emboldened by the response of her lovers, Molly smacked the paddle against Holmes' arse again, hitting the cheek that had received her weak first hit. She smiled happily when she pulled it back and saw a pleasing redness already beginning to form.

She developed a rhythm, smacking him with smooth, forceful hits evenly over his bottom. Holmes made no secret of his enjoyment of Molly's handiwork. He moaned and groaned with each hit, rutting into the crevice of her thighs.

"You are good at this, Pet," Sherlock chuckled. He had moved his hand to directly stimulate the bulge in his trousers. "Promise not to leave me to become a full-time domme?"

Molly giggled and smiled at him. "I could never leave you, Love."

After a few more hits, Holmes' arse was pleasingly red. Molly set aside the paddle and ran her hands over it. Heat emanated from the skin. She sighed as she caressed him and he continued to fuck himself against her.

"I have the same sense of accomplishment," Sherlock murmured. "When I see your arse rosy and hot. But I suggest you move on, lest my counterpart spend himself against your thighs."

Molly took a hold of Holmes' hips, stilling him. She guided him to roll onto his back on the bed. He lay back, panting as he looked up at her.

He was lovely: masculine and strong, yet utterly subservient to her. His skin was shining with a sheen of sweat. His cock twitched from need. Molly stared at it, licking her lips. She was tempted to take it into her mouth.

But no, she would resist. She could tell the signs. He was close. If she gave him the pleasure of him mouth, he wouldn't last long enough for her to take her pleasure.

Molly took her time arranging him, spreading him on the bed so he faced Sherlock. She stretched his cuffed hands above his head.

Once she was done, she looked back over her shoulder at Sherlock. She bit her lip coyly, pressing her backside out. "Will you...?"

Sherlock rose, nodding. "This is all you get for now, Pet." He nuzzled her neck briefly, taking in her scent before he nibbled at her skin.

Holmes had raised his head to watch as Sherlock divested Molly of her clothing. Molly mewled and wriggled in her Master's embrace. As each bit of skin was revealed, Sherlock took a moment to caress her.

Once she was nude, he tilted her head towards her, kissing her deeply. He pulled back after a moment, but only enough that he could speak. Molly could feel his warm breath against her lips as he nuzzled her nose. "You've got someone waiting for you."

Sherlock was back in his seat observing in a heartbeat. Molly stood in front of the bed, letting Holmes take in her naked body for a moment. She then crawled onto the bed, slinking towards him.

Another giggle escaped her as she crawled up to his head. "One thing I know about Sherlock Holmes is his sharp tongue makes him excellent at pleasuring a girl. I hope that's true for you as well."

Molly swung her leg over, straddling Holmes' face. She pushed down the flutter of nervousness at being so open, so wet, so close, to a man she barely knew. She was positioned to face Sherlock. She felt his smouldering gaze on her, silently approving of everything that was transpiring.

Handcuffs jangled on Holmes' wrists as he brought his bound hands up, cradling Molly's arse, playing with the cheeks. She shrieked softly and wriggled on top of him. Then, she felt it, the first swipe of tongue against her hot core. She placed her hands on his stomach, bracing herself as she opened her legs wider to him.

Molly shifted slightly, making it easier to Holmes to delve his tongue into her. She continued to vocalize loudly as he found her sensitive spots. She shouldn't have been surprised that he was able to read her body, know just where would make her moan.

She rocked her hips, riding his face as he tongue alternated between delving into her and circling her clitoris. As his lips closed around the hardened bud in a sucking kiss, Molly threw her head back and dug her nails into his skin. This just made the man beneath her moan and suck harder at her.

"Is he getting all of the good spots?" Sherlock purred. He still looked cool and composed, the bulge in his trousers the only thing betraying the veneer. He continued to rub himself through the fabric. "Are you just dripping onto his tongue?"

Molly closed her eyes and bit her lip. She always loved when Sherlock talked dirty to her. Having him talk dirty while she was being eaten out was... Her nails dug deeper into Holmes' skin and his gripped her arse tighter.

"Show him the way you like it," Sherlock purred. "Force him to make you come. Or is being in control coupled with the stimulation and my voice enough to send you over the end, Pet?"

Molly moaned and leaned over to give Holmes better access to her clitoris. She rode his face in earnest. She giggled, knowing Sherlock was watching her breasts sway as she rode Holmes.

"You look deliciously debauched, Pet," Sherlock purred. "With Sherlock's lips sucking your clit.... And...."

Molly gasped as fingers prodded at her. With her bent over, Holmes was able to worm one of his hands in, fucking her with his fingers. She bucked harder, taking the offered digits in.

"Yes..." Sherlock groaned. "Fuck your cunt on his fingers. Come on, Pet. I know you want to come. You want to come on his face. He's trying so hard to bring you to climax."

His stubbled chin rasped against her thighs as she rode him harder. She closed her eyes tightly, wailing without apprehension as the pleasure became too much to stand. She was nearly sobbing as the pleasure wracked her body and she trembled.

She nearly fell off of Holmes as she came down from her orgasm. She felt hands brace her. Her eyes fluttered open to look up at Sherlock. He smirked down at her, rubbing the small of her back. "Did that feel good, Pet?"

Molly nodded, clutching tightly to Sherlock. She wasn't able to verbalize her response, just small whimpers escaping her mouth.

"You are adorable," Sherlock whispered. He gave her a kiss as he lifted her off of Holmes. Molly's legs were trembling as he set her down on her feet. "Now look at the man who just made you come." 

Molly looked down at Holmes. His face was shining with her juices, his tongue darting out to lick it away. She smiled down at him fondly.

Sherlock pressed the key to the handcuffs and a condom into her hand. "I think I know what you want next. What he wants."

Molly swallowed hard and nodded. She climbed on top of Holmes again. She kissed him gently, tasting herself on his mouth. She uncuffed his hands while they kissed.

Once he was freed from his bonds, Molly slipped the condom over his prick. She took some time to study him, compare him to her memory of Sherlock. He wasn't quite as long, but he was thicker. She gave a small squeak as she climbed on top of him, rubbing him against her entrance.

"Beautiful," Sherlock purred.

Holmes nodded. "I concur."

Molly let out a long breath as she sank down onto Holmes. She moved on him in slow thrusts. She could definitely feel the difference from her own Sherlock, but it was lovely all the same, stretching her and rubbing her deliciously.

She took hold of Holmes' hands, leading them up her torso. He smiled at her, delighting in palming her breasts and teasing the hardened nipples. He thrust up into her, his balls slapping against her arse.

After a few minute of rough fucking, Holmes seemed to relent, his thrusts shallower. Molly frowned slightly, unsure why he was pulling back. She prepared to take control, to fuck herself harder on top of him. But then, she felt it.

Something was brushing against her arse. Someone who was _not_ Holmes. She looked back to see Sherlock-- still fully dressed-- kneeling behind her, his nose brushing between her cheeks. She squealed as his tongue darted out, flicking over her arse. He looked up, catching her eyes. He gave her a smack on one of the cheeks as he delved deeper.

Molly wriggled and moaned, rocking back to Sherlock's mouth and then forward onto Holmes' prick. She was awash in a sea of pleasure. She was nearly overwhelmed by it, but knew she was nowhere near finished yet.

Sherlock's tonguing ended as abruptly as it had started. But he did not remain idle. Molly squeezed her eyes shut when she felt his elegant fingers, generously lubed up, prod at her. She stilled herself, Holmes seated deep within her as Sherlock slipped two fingers into her, opening her up.

Her hands were fisted in the covers of the bed, on either side of Holmes' head. She was bent over while he pressed lustful kisses to her mouth. She felt the rasp of Sherlock's fine cotton shirt against her bare back as he kissed over her shoulder.

"Feel good, Pet?" Sherlock panted, thrusting and scissoring his fingers. "Full?"

She was sure there were words in her mind. Words of praise, pleasure and pleading. Yet all that came out of her mouth was incoherent mewling and babbling.

"I know, Pet," Sherlock soothed her. "Just a bit more."

Then, his fingers were gone. Molly whimpered in confusion.

"I won't be long," Sherlock murmured. "Just need to get ready. You have some distraction."

Oh, she definitely had that. Holmes kissed her hard, his hips bucking up harder now. Molly gripped his wrists tightly, keeping his hands on her breasts and keeping herself anchored. She rode him hard, moaning as she got closer and closer to her second orgasm.

She heard the sound of a zip and the rustle of a condom package opening. Sherlock's hands, now clean of lube, gripped her hips, stilling her. "Stop," he commanded.

Molly paused, Holmes deep inside of her. Sherlock pressed against her. She could feel his clothing. He had only taken his trousers and pants down enough to fuck her.

It was all so depraved. Fucking this near stranger while her Dom filled her arse. Her nearly full dressed Dom, while both she and Holmes were utterly bare. So depraved was the scenario, she didn't mind when Sherlock tilted her chin so he could press a kiss to her mouth. She knew she should care, but she couldn't bring herself to.

"I love you, Pet," he murmured. His voice was low, so low the words were only for her. Oh, Holmes knew. Of course he did. But the words were still for her and her alone.

She had never felt anything like it. Holmes' thick cock deep in her cunt while Sherlock pressed slowly into her arse. He had taken every one of her holes, but this was a new sensation, two of them at once. She tried to squirm, but he held her still.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself, Pet," he growled.

With an agonizingly slow pace, Sherlock filled her. Once he was inside of her, they remained still for another moment, letting Molly adjust to the feeling of two pricks inside of her. She could feel Holmes twitching, so close to his own climax.

Sherlock's hold relented and his bit her shoulder. "Move. Fuck yourself, Pet."

It was awkward, tried to slide herself between the two men, but oh, it was brilliant. She moved herself on top of Holmes, while Sherlock thrust himself inside of her.

Molly screamed out her orgasm as Sherlock nipped at her neck. The tightening of her pussy set Holmes off and he bucked up into her, his cock twitching and his hands tightening on her breasts.

Molly gave him soft kiss as they came down from their orgasms. "That was wonderful." His now softened cock slipped out of her.

She felt a sharp thrust against her arse. "You're not done yet, Pet."

Molly's eyes widened at the darkness of Sherlock's voice. She squeaked as he grabbed her arms, pulling them behind her back. She heard the snap of the cuffs she had taken off of Holmes.

Molly gasped. "Sherlock."

Sherlock pressed his face into her neck, her arms trapped between their bodies. "Mine," he growled. "All mine."

It was almost-- _almost_ \-- too much. She was so sensitive from the pleasure she'd taken from Holmes. But as soon as Sherlock began to touch her soaking pussy, she writhed against the touch. She needed it. She needed Sherlock to bring her to another orgasm. He was biting at her neck and shoulder, branding her as his as he rode her arse.

Holmes put his hands behind his head, watching the reclaiming of Molly with intense interest. While Sherlock continued to fuck her arse and finger her pussy, he let his free hand pinch and tug her nipples.

Molly was a writhing, sweaty mess. Sherlock's mouth was a hot, welcoming sting on her skin. In between bites he muttered words of affection and claims to her body in the filthiest language he knew.

Sherlock groaned out his orgasm, giving one final sharp drive into her. He remained inside of her as he came down, still playing with her. Tears sprang from Molly's eyes as she was forced over the precipice once again.

Her body felt utterly boneless as he withdrew from her. Sherlock quickly uncuffed her arms. She very nearly fell on top of Holmes, but Sherlock caught her in his arms. There was a slight tremor in his hands from his own climax, but he remained strong, pulling her off of Holmes.

"Don't collapse on top of our host, Pet." Sherlock lifted her up, hugging her tightly as he pressed gentle, affectionate kisses to her back. He laid her down beside Holmes, rolling her onto her back. He gave her a kiss on the nose. "Be right back."

Molly's eyes were closed tightly.

"That was new," Holmes commented.

Molly nodded. "Uh-huh."

Very quickly, Sherlock returned. Molly opened her eyes and looked at him. He was dressed primly, perfectly composed aside from the side flush to his cheeks and his curls matted down to his forehead. He was carrying two bottles of water and a damp cloth.

Sherlock handed one of the bottles to Holmes. "I think I might have worked her too hard for her to give you proper aftercare."

Holmes shrugged, accepting the water. "I'll be all right. Molly, on the other hand..."

Molly moaned softly as Sherlock began to clean her with the damp cloth. He gave her one of the waters. She downed nearly the entire thing, not realizing how parched she actually was.

Once she was relatively clean, Sherlock drew her into his arms, stroking her hair. "Feel good, Molly?"

Molly nodded, cuddling into his chest. "Sleepy."

"I wouldn't get too comfortable," Sherlock said with a smile. "Watson is home. I think she heard the end of our performance."

Holmes pulled himself off the bed, grabbed his trousers and pulling them on. "Well. I should go defuse that situation."

Molly allowed Sherlock to dress her sloppily in her clothes and wrap his Belstaff around her. He lifted her into his arms, holding her tightly. "I've called a cab. Should get her back to the hotel to sleep this off."

He held out a hand to Holmes. "This is one of the more interesting cases I've been on in a while. Thank you."

"No, thank you." 

Molly peeked out from Sherlock's coat, seeing Holmes grin. "Call me if you two ever come to New York again, Mister Holmes."

Sherlock grinned back, giving Molly a small squeeze. "I guarantee that can be arranged, Mister Holmes."


End file.
